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Without her political insight and knowledge of the Elvish customs, I would have been lost. She had been a valuable asset the last few months.
She clasped my hands tightly. “You’re welcome, Your Highness.”
A faint breeze ruffled my hair, and I took a deep breath. It was time.
The cobbled path crunched under our feet as we made our way to the front door. The heels of my shoes clicked against the ground, echoing in the silence. In the distance, I heard a harp playing a soft melody. Laughter drifted on the breeze and I shivered, despite the heat of the day.
The doors opened before we reached them. Prince Maedras walked outside, dressed in a finely tailored robe that accentuated his broad shoulders. A blue sash was draped across his chest, signifying his status as the future husband. His gold hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, revealing his sharp features. But it was his eyes that caught my attention. Gold and piercing, they seemed to see right through me.
He held out his hand, and I took it, feeling a jolt of electricity course through me. “Wife,” he said formally. There was a hint of amusement in his voice and I wondered if he had felt it, too.
“Fiancée,” I corrected automatically. “Not until the vows have been spoken.”
The corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile. “Wife,” he repeated, this time with a hint of teasing in his voice. “I think you’ll find that I’m very good at getting what I want.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Is that a threat or a promise?”
“A little of both,” he replied, his eyes dancing with mischief. “You might as well get used to it.”
I was about to say something when I heard Darith clear her throat pointedly. I turned to see her watching us with an amused expression.
“Perhaps we should go inside,” she suggested. “It wouldn’t do to keep the Queen waiting.”
I nodded and Prince Maedras released my hand but placed it on the small of my back as he guided me inside.
“A red sash?” His eyes roamed over my dress appreciatively, and the red sash around my waist. “An innocent bride ready to be claimed.”
Red stood for virginity and purity in the Elvish culture. The color of nobility and power.
“A sign of respect to your family and people,” I replied coolly. “And not a lie.”
“Really? You’re a virgin?” His voice was laced with disbelief, and I met his gaze steadily.
“Yes.” I lifted my chin. “I found no one worthy enough.”
Until now. The words hovered on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed them back. It would be too easy to fall into the trap of flirtation with this man. To get lost in his golden eyes and effortless charm.
“Good.” His eyes flared with heat and something else. “I wouldn’t want anyone else’s touch on you.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Jealous much?”
“Yes,” he replied without hesitation. “When it comes to you, I’m very jealous.” His hand tightened on my waist and he leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear. “A husband’s prerogative.”
I shivered, despite myself. He leaned back and his eyes met mine, a knowing look in their depths.
“I think you’ll find that I’m very possessive when it comes to my wife.”
“And I think you’ll find that I’m not the type of woman to be controlled,” I countered. “Or tamed.”
“We’ll see,” he hissed, his eyes glittering with challenge. “I look forward to the battle, my lady.”
My stomach flip-flopped and I swallowed hard. “What is your obsession with battles?” I asked, attempting to lighten the suddenly charged atmosphere.
“I like to win,” he replied easily. “And there’s nothing I want more than to claim you.” His eyes darkened, and he added softly, “For my own.”
“A Midarian husband wouldn’t understand the concept of claiming a wife.” I raised my eyebrow. “It’s an outdated tradition.”
“I’m not a Midarian husband,” he reminded me. “And I have no intention of following your rules.”
